


Love is a Joke

by Akira_of_the_Twilight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Comedian Bucky Barnes, Flirting, M/M, War Veteran Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 04:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira_of_the_Twilight/pseuds/Akira_of_the_Twilight
Summary: Former military sniper turned D-list comedian Bucky Barnes makes a small but acceptable living doing stand up acts at clubs and bars.At the end of one of Bucky's sets, a man with a nice bod and a kissable mouth that spews wit and pick up lines like he came out of the womb flirting buys Bucky a drink.It's a battle of flirts and quips.Little does Bucky know, he's up against Tony Stark: CEO of Stark Industries and reknowned playboy.Tony Stark has Bucky in his sights and he is going to charm the pants off that damn comedian, literally.





	Love is a Joke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DreamcatchersDaughter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamcatchersDaughter/gifts).



> DreamcatchersDaughter prompted: winteriron 33 celebrity/fan. maybe where the famous tony stark is a super nerd fan of famous bucky barnes?
> 
> Posted on [tumblr](http://akira-of-the-twilight.tumblr.com/post/181532365533/winteriron-33-celebrityfan-maybe-where-the) and [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/372077).

“In an instant, I watched as this old man went from stick-up-his-ass angry to volcanic fury.” The blinding white lights stalked Bucky as he paced across the stage. Stark silhouettes judged him there tables. “Or at least he tried. The rage was there. The heart was there.” Bucky placed his fist over his heart. “You could see it blazing in his eyes—in the redness of his face...like a sunburn,” Bucky said, whimsically, like a child recalling their first taste of ice cream. 

A few chuckles came from the crowd—acceptable, but not great. The joke was getting cut from the next set.

Bucky shook himself out of his feigned reverie. “That poor guy. All that rage, and all I could think was ‘wouldn’t it be amazing if his head exploded and confetti came out?’ Or candy! Fuck, would I have loved some chocolate.”

“I gotta tell you right now, my sister always told me that she and her friends craved chocolate during their cycle, and I believed her, because for one week each month they turned into demons and performed satanic rituals that always involved chocolate bars.

“Despite believing my sister, I didn’t really believe her. You know what I mean? 

“You know when someone tells you something like: Relationships require effort, and when you haven’t been in one you nod and agree, but you don’t really know. Then you get into a relationship and everything is great. You’re skipping through a field, with a bag of spray paint and toilet paper, plotting how the two of you are going to mess up the house of that old man who decided to yell at you in the supermarket because you’re a boy wearing a crop top, and he couldn’t stand your amazing fashion sense.

“So you’re at the old guy’s house. You’ve spray painted one wall, and the cops show up. You run.” Bucky mimed the action. “But then… bam! You trip and fall flat on your face. Your partner stops, and just like in every movie in which someone falls during an epic chase scene, you stretch out your arm and reach for your partner… and that asshole takes off running and never looks back. 

...and as you lay on the grass, getting handcuffed by the cops, you suddenly understand with great clarity just how much effort goes into a great relationship, because fuck if you and your partner had just taken an extra five minutes to come up with an escape plan—given that little extra bit of effort—you wouldn’t be in this goddamn mess.”  

Uproarious laughter burgeoned from the audience. 

Bucky paced in a semicircle, sashaying his hips as he mentally cheered himself on. “Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is, now that my friend Steve-”

A round of cheers came from the audience. 

Bucky smirked. “We have some Steve fans in the audience.” Another cry of cheers. “You all have terrible taste.” Bucky held up his hand to pacify the audience. “But it’s okay. I do too.” 

Laughter flowed through the audience. A grin stretched across Bucky’s face as electrifying confidence zapped his nerves. 

“Now that my friend Steve has banned chocolate and any sugar that isn’t fake from the house, I just want to say to all of the ladies out there…” Bucky stood center stage, holding the mic stand as he took on a serious expression and tone. “I’m sorry that I do not have a shopping cart worth of chocolate for all of you.”

“It’s hard,” Bucky whined, taking up a pace. “All I want to do is murder someone for a chocolate bar right now, and I’m just a weakling who hasn’t had sugar for a week. I’m not some queen whose body has turned against her like she is stuck in some sci-fi horror flick. 

“You women, you are so strong and patient. ‘Cause I swear if someone pulls out a chocolate bar in front of me, I’m going to go rabid and pounce on them. If they’ve already bitten into it...” Bucky flicked a bottle of chapstick out from his jeans’ pocket. Without uncapping the stick, he traced it along his lips.”...pucker up pal. You’re getting frenched tonight.” 

Bucky drowned in laughter. He basked in the glorious sound as he put the mic back in its stand. He raised his hands up in a wave. “You all have been a wonderful audience. Thank you!” Bucky grooved his way off of the stage, the laughter and applause from his audience acting as his music. He’d had a couple of rough spots, but overall it was a good show. A few more edits and tweaks and he’d get a solid set.

He hurried down the steps of the bar’s stage. With the brilliant lights off him, the shadowed faces of his audience became clear. Smoke and alcohol danced on his tongue without him touching either vice. The adrenaline and the energy of the crowd had been a pale between him and the clustered bar. 

A peanut or some other crud crunched under his boot as he pushed himself through the barflies on the wall to reach his friend-turned-manager. 

Sam clapped Bucky on the back. “Good job. Personally, I’m sick of your jokes, but the crowd loved you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled. 

Sam’s hand lingered on the back of Bucky’s neck. His grip was firm, contradicting his relaxed posture.

Sam guided Bucky to an empty stool between a man in a jean jacket and a hat, and a drunk woman who was flopping all over her friend... or her girlfriend? Either way the other chick was getting a sloppy groping that she was enjoying, if the way she smiled and leaned into the touches was a good indication. 

Bucky slid onto the stool. “What? You taking off?” 

“Some of us have day jobs. When you actually make enough that I can live off the pennies you pay me, then I’ll be all yours.” Sam gave Bucky’s neck a pat then released him. 

Anxiety twisted in Bucky’s chest. He was a grown man and an army veteran; he could handle himself alone. However, there was something comforting about having a friend by his side, especially after a performance. He wasn’t famous enough yet to have groupies or crazy fans, but the thought that one day he’d encounter one or a few at once put him on edge. 

Sam was a vet too. He was smart, sassy, and with a corded build that could attract and intimidate. Together they could take on a few crazy fans or the randos who liked to get in bar fights. 

Bucky breathed deep then released it. “Fine. Leave your friend to drink alone. Nothing bad happens when you people do that.”

Sam smiled cheekily. “Just don’t get too drunk. I don’t need Steve to bitch to me about how I’m not looking after his second best friend.”

Bucky mock sneered. “Oh? And who is his first?” 

Sam’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief. He grinned as he turned his back on Bucky. He waved farewell. “Keep out of trouble;  you don’t have Steve around to blame for your stupidity.” 

“Yeah, fuck you too.” Bucky faced the bar. He frowned at the wall of potential drinks as he mulled over his order. Drinking alone sucked like a vacuum stuck on your tongue. 

The bartender caught Bucky’s eye then asked for his order. 

Still too jittery from his performance to give his drink much thought, he ordered a rum and coke. He’d get something else later. Right now, he needed something simple with sugar. 

He’d probably be like some friggin’ kid in a bounce house after having no sugar in so long—the week he’d mentioned in his set was a lie; it’s been longer.  

And just like a kid in a bounce house, Bucky would probably puke.

He embraced the possibility full-heartedly. 

The bartender set the drink down in front of Bucky. 

“Put his drink on my tab,” the man sitting next to Bucky in a jean jacket and hat hollered just enough to be heard over the boisterous crowd. 

Bucky perked up. He’d already redeemed his voucher for a free drink before his set. He turned to smile at the man. 

His grin split his face at the sight of the attractive stranger. Sunset-hued glasses obscured whiskey brown eyes belonging to a face that had a few years on Bucky. Laugh lines as well as an intricate goat framed lips that cried out to be kissed. Maybe it was the sheen of alcohol or a lip balm that made the man’s lips so enticing? Perhaps the man truly possessed natural kissable lips? 

The bod that came along with the handsome face was also a point in the man’s favor. He was petite for a guy, but even hidden under denim and a loose band T-shirt, Bucky could tell the man was strength wrapped up in a tiny package. 

Too bad the hat and shades screamed douchebag. 

He could be wrong, but the stereotype of Indoor Glasses Wearing Douchebag existed for a reason. 

“Thanks, but I’m not sure if I want your drink or not. I definitely want the drink, but I’m not so sure about the strings attached. How do I know you’re not pinning a murder on me?” 

The man’s mouth twitched briefly; a smile was fighting for freedom. The man locked the smile away. He switched his attention to the bar as he sipped his glass of scotch. “You won’t know the answer to that until it is too late.” 

Bucky exaggerated a shudder. “Wow, Ted Bundy. I hope you use that line all the time, because it is a keeper.” 

“Tony, not Ted; although, I can understand the mistake. Also, I only save gems like that for treasures like you.” Sly as fox, Tony checked out Bucky. 

The pit of Bucky’s stomach twisted in a delicious and glorious way. That mischievous yet lecherous glint to Tony’s gaze combined with the clever wordplay got Bucky feeling like he could lose his pants in front of the entire room, and he wouldn’t give a damn as long as Tony looked at him that way. 

His inner exhibitist was strong today. 

“Sugar, you’re way too sweet to me.” Bucky picked up his drink. He held the rim of the glass to his mouth. Tony’s eyes land on his lips. Victory danced in his stomach. 

Sometimes it was just nice to be appreciated. 

“What can I say? I like a man who makes me laugh.” 

“Oh, well then I must be your dream guy.”

“Yeah…” Tony trailed off. His attention reluctantly shifted away from Bucky. The guy probably wasn’t sure if he had crossed a line with his flirting, or if he was coming off too strong. 

Bucky leaned into the Tony’s space. Through the smells of the bar, he caught a whiff Tony’s sharp, spicy scent. He raised his hand to the corner of his eye and tapped the skin there. “So how about you remove those glasses so I can get a good look at your eyes.”

A dashing smile was Tony’s response. “You’d lose your mind if I took these off.” 

“Unless your some Elder One or spawn of Cthulhu, I think I will be okay.” 

Tony’s smile stretched at the literary reference. “And what if I said I have delicate eyesight?”

Bucky mock huffed. “Then I would have to say, you have given me two stories, mister. Which is the truth and which is the lie?”

“What if they were both true?” Tony took another sip of scotch.

“Now we’re just living in world of hypotheticals. In this world, I ask that I be an Octopus merperson who is also a killer guitar player.” 

Tony lurched forward and choked on his drink. 

“Whoa!” Bucky patted Tony on the back. “Swallow and breath.” Bucky paused. “That’s what the last guy who I gave head to said.” 

Tony sputtered and coughed. Tears crept into the corners of his eyes. 

Bucky smirked. “Good. It was tough, but you swallowed. You will make an excellent boyfriend.” 

Tony’s hand covered his heart as he breathed heavily. “I think you just tried to kill me.” 

“Well, I am a former assassin.” Partial joke. He was a former military sniper; assassinations had been part of the gig.

He usually didn’t tell people that. For some reason, people just didn’t find assassins very funny. Their loss.  

Tony tilted his head back. He closed his eyes and grimaced. “I always knew I was on a hit list. I just never suspected death by laughter was the way I’d go.” 

“That’s my MO. Chuck-Sassins the Clown is what they call me.” 

“Oh-” Tony was cut off by what had to be a former beauty pageant model tapping on his shoulder (and damn, what the hell was such a pretty chick doing in a just passable bar like this? Shouldn’t she be at a bar where the guys have to wear something more upscale than a T-shirt and jeans? Like T-shirt, jeans, and a tie?). 

“Excuse me.” The woman pushed a curly lock of dark hair behind her ear as she showed off her winner’s smile. “It is you.” The woman clasped her hands together in delight then gesticulated as she spoke. “I’m so sorry to disturb you, but can I please get you to sign a cocktail napkin? I’m such a big fan. Your studies on clean energy have been revolutionary, and is exactly what we need in this world, and I would just…” The woman sighed in a swoonful manner. “...I would just really appreciate an autograph.” 

Well, damn.

Bucky had just gotten upstaged by a man who’d just sat a stool and drank scotch. 

His career in stand up was over. 

Tony’s gaze darted to Bucky, then the woman. There was just a moment of calculation on Tony’s face before he was a man of charm and charisma again. “How about a picture with me and this guy here?”

“Wha?” Bucky said. Who was this mysterious, “revolutionary” man who let people take his photo so long as said people included a total stranger in the photo? 

Bucky wasn’t complaining. He’d take the photo because it would be good PR if she actually knew who he was, but damn if he wasn’t confused. 

“Oh! Wow!  You’re the guy who was just performing!” the woman said. 

“Yup, that’s what my parents named me,” Bucky stated. 

“His name is Bucky Barnes,” Tony explained enthusiastically. “Amateur comedian and military veteran.”

Tony Last Name Unknown: fan or stalker; Bucky didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

Tony gestured for the woman to stand between them. She pulled her phone out of her clutch. After a minute of testing the camera’s settings and deciding that the flash was no good in the bar, she took three selfies with Tony and Bucky. 

“Make sure to post the photo to all of your social media and tag us both. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.” Tony winked at the woman. 

She clutched her phone to her chest. “I will! Thank you.” Then like a black cat dashing across the road at night, she blended into the crowd as she scurried away. 

“What the fuck was that?” Bucky asked as Tony withdrew his arm from Bucky’s shoulder. 

“That was fantastic PR and marketing.” Tony lifted up his glass of scotch. “Cheers to you.” Tony took a swig. 

Bucky shook his head in disbelief. “You’re famous.” 

“Clearly not that famous.”

“Show me your face.”

“Are we reenacting Beauty and the Beast?” 

“At least give me your full name.”

Tony sighed, his body hunching with disappointment. He probably had a really shitty name. 

“Anthony Edward Stark. Tony for short.” 

Anthony Stark. Tony Stark. 

TONY STARK!

Bucky all but thrust his face into Tony’s. 

Tony yanked his head back. Whiskey brown eyes blinked through sunset shades at Bucky. “You might want to work on your kissing game. You’re a bit too aggressive.” 

That sass. That voice. That face. That friggin’ perfectly shaved and stupidly, perfectly designed trademark goatee. 

Tony was billionaire, playboy, philanthropist Tony Stark: CEO of Stark Industries and former chief weapons manufacture of the company. 

“Slap me silly and call me stupid.” Bucky pulled back from Tony. “...or blind.”

Tony shrugged. “Most people don’t expect to ever meet me. You’re not the first to not recognize me.” 

“What the hell are you doing in place like this?” Bucky gestured around the bar. 

“One of my favorite comedians performed here tonight.” 

“Who?” No one who’d performed tonight was famous enough to be on Tony Stark’s radar. 

“The guy I have been flirting with for the past fifteen minutes.” 

Bucky pointed at himself. 

Tony nodded. 

“Well, fuck me.” 

“That can be arranged.” 

While big Bucky’s head was swirling with bafflement and panic, little Bucky’s rose at Tony’s offer. 

Unfortunately, little Bucky had a nasty habit of getting big Bucky into trouble, and big Bucky was not inclined to listen to little Bucky when he felt like the universe was setting him up to be the punchline of either a fantastic or cruel joke. “Are you messing with me?”

“Could be.” Tony held up his palm. “Your cell phone, please.”

“Are you going to steal it?”

“It would be the perfect crime. No one would ever believe you.” Tony kept his palm up. 

Bucky’s hand went to his jeans’ pocket. He felt like giving his phone to Tony would be the stupidest thing he could do. At the same time, he was a curious fucker and wanted to know what the heck Tony would do with his phone. 

Bucky slipped his phone to Tony. 

With speed, Tony typed on Bucky’s phone. 

Bucky craned over the phone to see what Tony was doing. 

Tony finished typing the last of a phone number into a new contact then hit save. In the next beat, he dialed the new contact. 

A phone rang in Tony’s jacket pocket. 

Tony hung up the call then passed the phone back to Bucky. He downed the last of his scotch, pulled out his wallet, slapped down a hundred-dollar bill on the bar counter, then pushed himself out of his seat. “Call me if you’re interested.” 

He sashayed out of the bar with confidence that only someone knowing they have a fantastic ass could have, and Tony had one of the best bubble butts Bucky had ever seen. Bucky’s limido shouted at him to chase that piece of art and shower it with the appreciation that it deserved, but his damn stupor leashed him like a horny dog. 

Luckily, his legs had a mind of their own, because once they realized Bucky’s brain was about to let down his dick, they took action. Bucky pushed himself through the crowd, apologizing and quipping along the way. 

Bucky pushed open the exit and stumbled out into the cool night and busy sidewalk. His head swiveled as he scoured the streets for Tony. 

Just as his heart sank like the Titanic, the window of a sleek, black audi parked on the curb rolled down. Through the window, Tony quirked his eyebrow at Bucky. “You looking for someone?”

“I…” Crap. He couldn’t think of anything sauve to say. “...You have an amazing ass.” 

“So I have been told.” 

Bucky gnawed his inner cheek. There was only one response coming to mind, and he shouldn’t say it, but dear all that was good in the world, he wanted to. “May I see it?”

“Sure.” Tony opened the door. “Hop in.”

Bucky’s mom had told him to never get in a car with a stranger. 

Good thing his mom had never defined what she meant by “stranger.” 

Bucky scrambled over Tony’s lap and into the car. 

He knew Tony’s name and that he has excellent taste in comedy. 

What else did Bucky need to know?


End file.
